She Walks in Beauty
by yourdyingwish
Summary: –REVISTED AND REVISED– "She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies;" Nineteenth century Zuko searches for his long lost mother. Ozai/Ursa/Iroh triangle and hinted Z/K.
1. Living Each Day Like You're Already Dead

**She Walks in Beauty**

A novel of the nineteenth century

"_Multa fernut anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recendentes adimiunt."_

_

* * *

_ Chapter One:  
Living Each Day Like You're Already Dead

* * *

It was a rainy day when Zuko Sozin was walking along the stone path to get to his Uncle's tea shop. It had been years since they had corresponded, not since his mother's death, and he was looking forward to seeing him again. Of course, Zuko _loathed_ tea, he much preferred coffee, but the tea wasn't the point of his visiting. It was almost that day. Five years ago, his father had killed his mother in an outrage, shocking the whole Sozin family. Especially Zuko's younger sister, Azula.

She idolized her father. He was a great, impressive man, after all. Something inside of him just snapped, and mother happened to be the one around when it did. At the time, when Zuko was still a child, he was furious with his father. He wanted to go to the Spring Hill Institution and murder that man, then and there. Thank Agni, he did not. For now, now that Zuko was older, more mature, he finally understood his father's actions. Of course, he did not feel that execution was the most suitable choice, but he felt as if he knew where his sire was coming from.

At least, where the psychiatrists thought he was coming from. No one would ever really know now, not for sure. Zuko's father, after the horrible incident, had completely shut down. The boy used to have hope that one day he would snap out of it, pull him self together. But it had been ten years. Ten years of waiting for his father to return to his normal state, not the agonizing sense of silence he was putting the Sozin family through.

But now, as previously stated, Zuko had come to forgive his father. The man had clearly been out of his mind, and there was no power in the world that could have stopped him. Zuko had moved on from that tragic happening, he rarely thought about it, and it was even rarer if he ever mentioned it to anyone. So, imagine the young man's surprise when he received a letter from his Uncle just days before the anniversary.

_Dear Nephew,_

_I am writing to inform you that your mother's untimely death will not go unrecognized this year. It would be very much appreciated if you were to stop by the _Jasmine Dragon_ to mourn with your old Uncle. Ozai Sozin is not the man whom you believe him to be. _

_Cordially,  
__Uncle Iroh Sozin_

The message had been simple and brief, but urgent all the same. The cryptic letter had intrigued Zuko deeply and he responded quickly, reassuring his Uncle that he would be there on the anniversary of his mother's death.

Now, here Zuko was, a day before the ten years, wandering the streets for a jovial tea shop. He hadn't the slightest idea where it might be, and the rain was pounding hard on his umbrella. The young man growled, he hated the rain. Almost as much as he disliked tea. It was a nuisance to him and he came to the conclusion that life would be better off without a good rain.

The sky seemed to darken even more, giving the solemn, near empty streets a dreary look. Zuko scowled at the couple that walked past him, a young lady with long, dark hair wearing a green dress being escorted by a young man in a ridiculous pale yellow suit. Zuko repressed a smirk; the woman must've been color blind if she still insisted on being seen with that goof in public.

But other than the young couple, the path was empty and Zuko had to admit he wished there was at least another soul to be seen. He walked past shops and restaurants, searching the buildings for a sign with the name of his Uncle's tea shop. Agni damn it, he was lost. Zuko's scowl returned as he stomped in the puddles on the cobblestone road.

Snapping Zuko out of his sallow mood was a piercing scream that echoed along the empty road. The young man was on full alert, his eyes wide, scanning for the cause of the scream. The place was still deserted. The couple wasn't even in sight anymore. The scream came again and this time Zuko caught sight of an alley beside an old dress shop.

The man dropped his umbrella and ran to the alleyway. He assumed a woman was getting mugged or dishonored and he quickened his pace. He rounded the corner, his heart racing and his lungs heaving. There was a man standing in a corner looking down at his feet. Zuko narrowed his eyes to see closer. Ah, there she was.

A young woman, Zuko guessed only a few years younger than himself, was cowering on the ground, her blue skirts held in one dark skinned hand. She whimpered when the man standing above her inched closer and she looked around his legs. She had spotted Zuko. Her eyes flickered and her attacker grunted before turning around. The man was probably a year older than Zuko. He seemed like rouge, a tough guy.

And he was looking for a fight.

* * *

A/N: Yessss, this is the same fic. I had thoughts about putting it on hiatus, but I figured I might as well finish it out. If anything it'll help my writing skills. So this has been revised. I went through and read the original version of She Walks in Beauty and just about fell asleep reading chapter one. Now there are smaller chapters. Other things are changed, but I'll leave it up to you to pick them out. Thanks for reading! Review please!


	2. Affinity

**She Walks in Beauty**

A novel of the nineteenth century

"_Multa fernut anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recendentes adimiunt."_

* * *

Chapter Two:  
Affinity

* * *

Zuko glared at the man and a fist rose to meet his chin, Zuko ducked and undercut the man in the stomach. He gasped in pain and stumbled backwards. The young Sozin rolled his eyes inwardly, he was fighting a drunkard! He gave the drunk another blow to the jaw and the man fell to the ground.

Zuko hovered over him and whispered darkly, "Don't ever come near her again." Then he spat next to the where the man was trying to stand.

The drunken man nodded and limped away hurriedly. Zuko made his way over to the woman, expecting to see her weeping. He was taken a back when she had already stood up and was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Zuko's cheeks colored at the sight of her.

Her chocolate brown hair had been let down and was curling and waving down her back. Her blue dress had been torn at one shoulder, showing dark, smooth skin. But the most appalling was how low cut her dress appeared to be without the support of one shoulder. It sank down low enough to give Zuko a glimpse of her white corset.

The woman didn't even notice it, or did not care because she rushed over to him. Surprising and embarrassing Zuko, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She exclaimed, her voice muffled. Zuko's blush grew fiercer.

The girl spoke again, "Might I ask what my rescuer's name be?" She asked in a commoner's accent.

Zuko bobbed his head and replied, "Yes, 'tis Mr. Zuko Sozin. Might _I_ ask what M'Lady's name be?"

The girl beamed. "M' names Katara Kuruk, Zuko Sozin."

Katara. Katara Kuruk. Her name was melodic and Zuko had to stifle another blush. Why in the world was he getting all hot and bothered? Oh yes, there was a half naked girl embracing him. "Yes, Katara, well I hate to be rude, but I'm expected somewhere, so–"

"Oh! Excuse m' own rudeness, Mr. Sozin," she gave him a curtsy before sliding next to him, "If I might be so bold as to ask where you're going, sir? P'haps we be headin' the same direction!"

Zuko doubted it but nodded dumbly, "Uhm," he stuttered, "I'm going to _Jasmine Dragon_. It's a tea shop, although I'm not quite sure where it's at."

Katara laughed. "Oi! I used to work there me self! The nice ol' bugger, Iroh Sozin, owns it." Then she gasped. "That woul'nt by chance be your kin wou'it?"

Zuko nodded again, wondering when he lost the ability to speak. "Spirits be damned! It 'tis a small world after all, aye?" Zuko chuckled at her swearing, he had never heard a lady curse before. Stuck in his trance, Zuko didn't reply.

Katara gave it no thought. "Zuko, m'boy. Why's we standin' in thee rain? We's better hurray under cov'ah."

Zuko pointed out of the alley way, "Uh, err–Lady Katara, I've got an umbrella out on the street; I dropped it in my rush."

Katara blushed. "Oh, yah, about that. Jet's a real nice lad an' all, but he's a _nasty_ drunk. Usuall-ay it's not this bad," she gestured to her clothing, "or else I 'as gotten rid o' him months ago."

They strolled arm in hand past different shops, Katara narrating the whole way. Every place she passed she seemed to have a story to go with it. When they neared a deserted vegetable stand, she laughed and told him an amusing story.

"Aye, Zuko! 'Is –ere vegetable stand 'tis owned by a sour ol' man, we's call –im Cabbage Man. 'E's always getting' so work'd up'n 'bouts –is cabbages. The chil'dun like to knock –is stand ovah ever' once 'n a while. I can't say I's blames 'em." Then she laughed and they continued to walk in silence.

Finally they reached a well looking shop that had a green sign scripted with curving letters, "_Jasmine Dragon"._ Zuko sighed in relief for being out of the rain, at last.

They walked up to the door and Zuko held it open for her politely. Katara giggled into her hand and curtsied, "Aye, you's a real gentleman." Zuko blushed and followed in after her, folding the umbrella up and placing it beside the door. The shop was slightly crowded from all the rain, but still seemed cozy and casual. He was going to follow Katara with hope that she might lead him to his Uncle, but she had disappeared into the restaurant.

Sighing, he made his way to the counter and rang the bell that sat in need of assistance. It was barely heard over the bumble of the people. He scowled. Zuko walked over to an empty table with a single chair and sat down angrily. Among the other things he hated, crowds were one of them. He was raised with (mostly) loving parents and was used to being doted on. He didn't like waiting either, he had absolutely no patience.

Taking a look around, Zuko saw the young couple he had seen earlier. He glared at them. Where had they run off to? If they had been going to _Jasmine Dragon_, he could have followed them instead of getting lost. He decided to pay more attention to travelers next time. The boy in yellow was holding a handful of marbles and blowing on them, smiling and laughing when his date punched him in the arm. _What was with this place?_ Zuko thought. Everyone's manners and proper etiquette had been thrown out the window.

But then again, maybe this was normal life now. Zuko had to admit that after his mother died, he was less social and didn't communicate with other children very well. He had grown up too quickly and too soon, he supposed.

"Zuko Sozin! We' I's a fancy meetin' you's 'ere!" Zuko turned around to see Katara laughing and coming his way.

"Well's, Zuko, ye find yours father yet?" Zuko shook his head and corrected her. "No, no. Iroh is my Uncle. Not my father." Katara smiled and grabbed his arm, starting to drag him behind her. "Katara!" He whispered harshly. She just shushed him back.

She pulled him through a pair of swinging doors and the overwhelming smell of tea overtook him. He crinkled his nose in distaste. He realized that they were in the back where the tea was made and she was taking him to see his Uncle.

"Iroh!" She yelled, hands on her hips. Suddenly, an old man with a big belly and gray whiskers appeared in front of them. The man blinked for a second then realization showed in his eyes. He moved forward to wrap Zuko in a tight embrace. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining. "Zuko, m'boy. It has been a long while, has it not?" Zuko nodded and Iroh smiled.

"I see you have met Lady Katara." He gestured to Katara and she gave a funny looking bob/curtsy before smiling goofily. "She is a wonderful person, it is a shame she work's here no longer."

Katara laughed. "A shame, huh? I's still comin' in here to do work for you, old man." Iroh laughed at her and put his hands on his belly as he did. Zuko smiled awkwardly. He felt as though he were interrupting something.

"Yes, well, Zuko. As you can tell, we are extremely busy today, so we will not have time to talk properly until after we close. You may stay here if you like, or you can leave." Iroh smiled and bobbed his head quickly, and then he left to go attend to a customer.

"You ain't leavin', Zuko. You's helping me run shop today." Katara tossed an apron to Zuko which he caught clumsily. She had already tied hers around her waist and Zuko was aware that she had changed out of her ripped attire in an olive green, short dress that had lace surrounding all of the seams. She smiled as she handed him a tray of tea before shoving him out the door.

Zuko's grinned was wiped off his face as the tea on his tray was knocked over by a tan-skinned customer in blue. He sighed. "Agni."

Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed revised chapter two! leave a review! xD


	3. The Anatomy of the Journey

**She Walks in Beauty**

A novel of the nineteenth century

"_Multa fernut anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recendentes adimiunt."_

* * *

Chapter Three:  
The Anatomy of the Journey

* * *

"Agni?"

Zuko whirled around, wondering who had said that. It was the gangly looking fellow in blue. He had dark skin much like Lady Katara's and he had to wonder if perhaps they were related. "Ye ain't from around 'ere, is ye boy?"

The man had a fairly deep voice and Zuko estimated they were about the same age. Zuko nodded, and then cleared his throat. "No, Sir, I'm not. I'm here for a visit with Iroh Sozin." The man smiled.

"Aye!" he laughed. "You's musts be the lad me sist'r was talkin' about. You Iroh's kid?" Zuko set his jaw in place, wondering why everyone thought he was his Uncle's child. The man must've noticed because he put his hands up in mock surrender.

"Easy there, lad. The name's Sokka Kuruk." Sokka stuck his hand out to Zuko and he took it hesitantly. Once their hands were connected, Sokka gave it a mighty shake before laughing.

"No 'ard feelings, aye...?" Zuko gave him a look of confusion before answering. "Zuko. Zuko Sozin." Sokka smiled and patted him on the back. Zuko stumbled forward at the force and almost dropped his tray of tea again. Sokka's eyebrows furrowed. "If you's ain'ts Iroh's boy, then what's you cartin' tea around in 'is place for?"

Zuko shrugged sheepishly. "Well, Katara told me I should-"

Sokka frowned. "Why's a fellow like you's self listenin' to a gal like Katara for?" Zuko tilted his head to the side uncertainly while trying to balance the tea. Sokka took notice and grabbed the tray from him, setting it down with a clatter in front of the orange tux couple. The girl looked up angrily.

"Sokka Kuruk! You better pray to Oma that you set that plate there on accident!"

The girl stood up, slamming her fists on the small table. Zuko was surprised that her accent was one of the upper community and he wondered briefly what she was doing in a town like this. Then he shook his head to clear himself of those thoughts. That was something that his sister Azula would say and he was above her. The whole shop had turned silent at the girl's fit. Sokka chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Damn, Toph, you's coul'n't be a li'tle quiet-ah for once? La, you's don'ts want ta make the Bei Fongs seem like a bunch o' spoilt brats, now do ye?" Zuko's eyes widened in shock. The Bei Fongs? That little girl was a child of the Bei Fongs? He tried to refrain from bowing to her right there. She didn't seem like the type of lady you would bow to.

Toph blew air out of her mouth angrily, the dark fly away curls fanning up when she did so. "Maybe the Bei Fongs are a bunch of spoilt brats. And maybe the Kuruk's are a bunch of dirty thieves!" The boy in the orange suit next to her laid a gentle hand on her forearm. "Toph, you don't mean that. Katara's your best friend."

The boy had an American accent Zuko was once again amazed by the culture shock he was getting. Katara walked over to Zuko and balanced the tray in one hand, her other fisted on her hip. "Oi! Toph, you's know's that that was one time! And 'sides, it was reall-ay mine own to begin with." Toph blinked and began to sit back down slowly.

"I apologize, Lady Katara." She said rather curtly and her date nudged her in the shoulder. "You too, Sokka." The girl mumbled and the boy smiled at her toothily. Toph punched him in the arm again.

Sokka nodded his head at her. "Thank you's Toph." then as an afterthought. "And Aang."

Aang beamed at Sokka, casting him a thumbs up as Toph was sipping her tea. The shop had already gone back to their business by then and Zuko turned to Sokka and Katara.

"So, should I even ask what that was all about?" Katara laughed as she waved a hand dismissively. "Those two's are like cat 'n dog. Always at each otha's throats."

Sokka's grin was back and he put an arm around Katara's shoulder affectionately. "So, sis," he drawled, "you's di'n't inform that your new beaux was of rich blood. I merely embarrassed me self 'ere, thinkin' he was one o' Jet's lads."

Katara scowled as she slid out of her brother's arm. "Me 'n Jet are done, Sokka. It'd be best for you's to stay out o' my business." She grumbled before walking away.

Zuko started to take off his apron as Sokka laid a hand on his shoulder. "We' Zuko, don't go breakin' me sist'r's heart, ye hear?" Zuko nodded slowly as he balled the tea shop apron up in his hand. "I wouldn't dream of it." He said his voice husky as he looked from his hand to the brother.

Zuko sat with his chin in his hand as he watched the customers in the tea shop. He felt odd and out of place. He wanted to know where Katara was or even where Sokka had gone off to but he felt it was too much of a hassle. The rain had let up so it wasn't as crowded as earlier but nearly every table was full. But Zuko was thinking about that, no, the young man was thinking of his sister. Azula.

She was a fifteen year old girl. She hated their father. Hated their dead mother. Hated Zuko. Really, that was about all Zuko knew of her. It was sad and he often berated himself for not trying to get to know her better, but it was of no use. All those years ago, she was too young to understand. So they had told her a story.

Told her that mother had gone away to her parent's for the summer, and father was away on business. Lies. When she had turned thirteen she had finally discovered an inkling of the truth. She didn't know the details, but she knew that there was something she wasn't being told. They couldn't keep it from her much longer, so they told her the truth. Poor Azula couldn't handle it. She went off the handle. Zuko remembered it like it was yesterday.

* * *

Azula had thrown the wooden chair she was sitting on across the room. It slammed into the door and broke with a crash. Zuko winced. "How could you lie to me? All of you! Liars!" She screamed, her voice was breaking and her eyes were watering with unshed tears. She screamed again and Zuko stood up to calm her.

"Azula," he said warily, "We did what was best for you. You wouldn't have been able to handle it we had told you the truth then." Azula glared at him. "How do you know? Maybe I would've understood it perfectly! Now you'll never know!" She yelled as she pulled at her hair. Zuko placed a hand on her shoulder and she whirled around.

Seething, she said, "You are no longer my brother."

* * *

_You are no longer my brother._ Zuko scowled as he thought of it. How was it possible that the Kuruk's had such a loving relationship? The young man would have never imagined such a family as of theirs. Of course, his father's madness ruined any chance he had of normality, but that should have made his and Azula's bond stronger, right? He sighed, re-buttoning the cuffs on his sleeves.

Maybe it was for the best.

"Zuko!"

He looked up from his shirt and surveyed the room around him. It was nearly empty now, save for the Bei Fong couple, the Kuruk's, Iroh, and him. Outside, the day was ending, the sky was lush with beautiful oranges and pinks.

Iroh came over to him and clapped his back tenderly. "What a day." He said and the other's all agreed with murmur's of delight. "It has been a hard night, I think I will rest up early. You all may take your leave. Zuko, help me in the kitchen, would you?" Iroh grabbed his arm and nearly dragged him to the kitchen. Once they were safely behind closed doors, Zuko rolled his shoulder, wincing from the force of Uncle's grip.

"So, Nephew, you wonder why I have brought you here?"

* * *

A/N: chapter three! time to get down to business...dundunduunn.  
...if you haven't noticed, the chapter titles aren't just random things. well, they sound random, but they're not. They're song titles. The songs themselves relate to each chapter. Look them up. If you aren't a fan of crazy, kick-ass screaming music, then I don't advise listening to them. But the lyrics are really poetic (surprisingly enough) and you should really check them out.  
Okay. I'm done. :)


	4. Water Wings

**She Walks in Beauty**

A novel of the nineteenth century

"_Multa fernut anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recendentes adimiunt."_

* * *

Chapter Four:  
Water Wings (and Other Pool Side Fashion Faux Pau)

* * *

The cup up tea sat untouched in front of Zuko, steam swirling out of it, a steady gray in the room of color. It billowed and twirled through the air, distorting Uncle's soft, round facial features. The old man sighed, his hand rubbing his whiskers thoughtfully. Iroh's own teacup was full and still, a bewildering fact to Zuko. Nothing before had made Uncle so preoccupied he could not enjoy a cup of tea.

Lowering his shaking hand slowly from his grey beard, Iroh spoke, "Zuko," his voice was strained, "Have you been to visit my brother in the institution recently?" The young man shook his head no and he went on. "That is good. Ozai, you see, is unwell, but not in the way you have past thought."

Iroh caught the confusion in Zuko's eyes and explained, "Ozai Sozin is a very, very sick man. He has had no nervous break down or panic attack to have caused your mother's death." Here Iroh shook his head slowly and solemnly, "A very sick man."

"Uncle, father snapped because he couldn't handle the stress of the company." Zuko said, a bit irritated that he was having to defend his father's honor. He knew he was sick. Everyone knew he was sick. Mentally sick.

Iroh reached across the small table and laid a withered hand on his nephew's. His skin was a pale gray and was spider-webbed with purple veins and dotted with leather spots. The hand was leather against Zuko's own soft, young hand.

"Is that the cockenhanny bull malarkey they have been telling you?" Iroh laughed joyously then went back to seriousness, "My nephew–lies. Your father's business was the best it had been in a while."

Zuko's eyebrows furrowed and he tensed under his Uncle's words, "Then why would he…?" The question was left unasked, but not unanswered. "He did not. Your father was a very bad man."

The young man felt his insides twist and he pulled away from Iroh's hand, he placed his palms on his thighs and kept his head bowed. "So, my mother…?" Iroh let out a shaky breath and a sickly cough before continuing,

"Your father killed your mother out of pure rage."

Zuko sneered. "You lying, old bastard. My father was a good man who couldn't handle pressure."

Iroh took no notice of the name calling. "No good man kills his wife." Then as an afterthought, "and her child."

Zuko's scowl was wiped off his face and his mouth opened in disbelief, "You mean to tell me, Mother was…with child?" The thoughts in Zuko's mind ran wildly, racing quickly and rambled in his brain. Mother was pregnant. Mother was going to have a child. Another one. And his father killed her.

"Yes, nephew. Not very far along, but she was. And Ozai murdered both of them." Iroh exhaled slowly and wrapped his crooked fingers around his now cold cup of tea. He sipped it carefully and placed it back down before speaking. "You see, nephew, the child was not Ozai's."

"Not Ozai's? Then who's would it be, Uncle?"

Iroh drank his tea silently, deliberately avoiding the question. "Nephew, I need you to find her." Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Find who? Who, Uncle?" Iroh lifted his eyes to Zuko's.

"Your mother."

* * *

"Aye, what do you's think they doin' in there?" Katara's ear was placed against the wooden door and her skirts were gathered in one hand. She strained her neck to get closer but to no avail, she could still not hear a word that was uttered.

Sokka was pacing nervously, ranting about how they would get caught and then Katara would get a beating from him. "'Tara! Get away from the door, it'll open and your head'll be bleedin' and then you's be sorry." He crossed his arms and gave her a smug look.

Katara growled, and rolled her eyes but leaned away from the door nonetheless. "Sokka, you's such a baby. Ain't nothin' wrong with wanting to know all that a girl can."

Sokka nodded, agreeing until he thought her words over. "Now that doesn't make a lick of sense, girl! Get back over here and mind your own business."

She ignored him and pressed her cheek back to the cold barrier between her and what she wanted to know. They had been back there for a while now and Iroh never closed up shop early. _Never_. So it was very strange indeed and all she wanted was to just understand why. There was no sense in getting your knickers in a twist. She told Sokka so.

Sokka didn't take that kindly. "Katara! Don't speak that way, you are a lady, and ladies are to talk with class and dignity." She snorted.

"Dignity! If something ever called for a mocking, that 'tis it!" Sokka groaned and stopped walking back and forth in front of her.

He placed his hands on his hips. "Curiosity killed the cat, Kat." Katara growled and stood up o her full height. Which wasn't very tall or intimidating, but she shoved her finger in her older brother's chest and she snarled and barked at him.

"I may very well do as I please, _Sir Sokka_, you ain't gonna do a thing about it!" He raised his hands in surrender and backed away from the steaming girl slowly.

"Oi, Katara, at least you's learned _something _from that lad, Jet."

There were some people who called Sokka stupid. It was a mean and cruel thing to say, no matter how smart he was. But Sokka wasn't stupid, not really. He was a genius at checkers and swords and he could throw a mean punch and knew more about the King and Queen than Iroh Sozin did, and Iroh knew everything.

But the people–those who said those spiteless words about the Kuruk man–weren't completely in the wrong. Because, despite the fact that Sokka was school smart and street smart, he never understood when to keep his mouth shut. And to some, actually to most, that was the most stupid thing in the world.

Katara whirled around to Sokka again, he face twisted, he fists clenched and her bright blue eyes the meanest he had ever seen 'em. "What did you say?" She growled, her voice was dangerously low and he knew he was in deep shit.

"Err, uh…" he stuttered, pulling at the collar of his shirt and looking away from his sister. "I just meant that, uh.."

Katara grabbed his shirt, her fingers gripping it so tightly he could feel her bones grind against his chest. It was a very unpleasant feeling. "Did you know what Jet did tonight, brother?" Sokka shook his head vigorously and swallowed a dry lump.

"He tried to _violate_ me, so I would really 'preciate it if you's would stop talking about him as if I didn't know what a lying, dirty, scum bag he was. Because, guess what? Oh! I do." She let go of his shirt and Sokka stumbled backward, trying to regain his composure. His brain processed all the information quickly enough and just as Katara had picked up her shrug and was out the door, Sokka muttered below his breath,

"I. Will. Kill. Him."

* * *

Zuko let out a bitter, forced laugh that sounded like he was choking. "My _mother_? She's dead, Iroh. You just said so yourself. I saw her blood."

Iroh pushed away his tea cup and grabbed both of Zuko's hands, gripping them tightly. "No, Nephew. Her child is dead, Ursa is not. It has been five years since your father discovered…he will break out of the instituition tomorrow."

Zuko pulled his hands away from Iroh but he would not let go. "Stop it, you old man. My mother is dead and my father is crazy. Stop lying to me!" He shouted, his words gaining strength and volume with each syllable. He stood up and his chair scraped across the wooden floor noisily. Iroh stood up to and his usually happy stance was hunched over and for once, he actually looked his age.

"Nephew," he spoke quietly, "Stop lying to yourself."

* * *

A/N: Uhm. Nothing to say...


	5. Anthem for the Unemployable

**She Walks in Beauty**

A novel of the nineteenth century

"_Multa fernut anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recendentes adimiunt."_

* * *

Chapter Five:  
Anthem for the Unemployable

* * *

_Ten Years Ago_

"No, oh no…" Ursa shook her head sadly, her ebony hair gently falling into her eyes. She bit her lip and her eyes filled up with tears. She felt a tugging on her night shift and looked down from the mirror. Azula was in a night gown similar to Ursa's own and she held a doll in her hand.

"Mommy," She said groggily, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. "Why are you sad?"

Ursa smoothed her daughter's hair lovingly and bent down to her level. "Mommy's not sad, sweetie." She said with a smile on her lips. She had to be brave. Had to. Azula yawned and nodded. "Okay. Night mommy." She placed a chaste kiss on the little girl's forehead before ushering her out the door. Ursa sighed as she sat down at her wooden desk.

The mother picked up a pen and began to write.

_Dear Iroh Sozin, _

_I'm afraid our actions are indeed suffering the consequences. Do not fret, I will inform my husband of them in due time. For now, I will leave the area so my family shall not be shamed. Don't be alarmed, for it will only be for a little while. I am sorry something so good had turned into something so awful. _

_Farewell,  
__Ursa Sozin_

A loud clatter lifted her from the letter and her eyes scanned the room hurriedly, as if a monster would pop out at any moment. Ironically, one did. "Ursa!" The voice was male, deep, and angry. Frantically, she picked up the letter and slid it into an envelope before shoving it up her sleeve. Breathless, she ran her fingers through her hair to smooth any flyaway's.

Ozai came in.

Ursa gulped nervously and fiddled with a string on the hem of her night shift. "Ozai," she mumbled, not daring to lift her eyes. She saw angry boots stomp up to her and an angry hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look into the angry eyes of her husband. Angry.

_Angry,  
Angry,  
Angry._

His orbs were golden, like her children's, like Iroh's, like her own. "Ursa." He said quietly, his golden(angry) eyes searching hers. "Ursa, don't lie to me." With that, she jerked her chin away from him and set her gaze on the floor. Her stance was strong and fierce, despite she was cowering like a little girl on the inside. She clenched her fists, "I would _never_ lie to the man I love."

Then came the blow. Ozai's ivory, smooth, hand met her cheek with a _slap_ and she gasped at the suddenty of it. He knew. Of course he knew. Ozai knew everything that happened. Besides, only a fool would be unaware. She bit her lip and turned away from him, now shaking. "Ursa." It was a warning. That if she came back to him, without struggle, he would forgive her. Forgive and forget. Relive and regret.

He gripped her arm, his thin fingers coiling around her soft flesh until she knew there would be a mark and she would have to wear a dress with sleeves in the morning. Wincing, she bit back a cry and screwed her eyes shut. Unconciously, she placed her palms on her belly, protecting the unborn baby inside her. Ozai noticed. His hand fell from her arm and his fingers tentatively lay upon her stomach.

Ursa gasped again. He was furious. And he had every right to be. Adultery was a sin. A sin beyond compare and to have his wife commit it, was a sin too. He had not been good enough. Never been good enough. For his father, his brother, his wife, the company. Ozai 's eyes clouded over and all he could see was red.

Later, he told them it was as if he were possessed. He had not done it. Something inside of him had snapped. Broken. (His heart.) They carted him off to an institution and all Ozai could think of was he had been caught. Red-handed. He lowered his head in mock shame but really he was proud of himself. Proud that he could handle his own. Proud that he had disposed of the bastard. Angry that she had gotten away.

But inside, his heart was in two. And in his mind, one side was laughing in victory while the other cried in misery. And when Ozai let his eyes drop, all he could see was the _red, red, red_ on his white, _pure_(Ozai spat,) hands.

Yawning and stretching like a cat, Iroh walked down his stairs at a slow pace, unconcerned of how urgent the person awaiting his arrival was. It was late in the night. He was an older man, he was tired. The pounding on his door continued and he finally opened the door. His breath caught in his throat and all he could think was _Ursa_.

She threw her arms around him, sobbing, her tears darkening his shoulder. His arms sild around her waist easily and he held her to him protectively. When she drew away he noticed. Her cheek was bleeding, her arms brusied and purple, and her night gown was wet and sticky. Particularly near her stomach.

Iroh gasped and touched her belly softly, his eyes questioning Ursa. She nodded and thus began a fresh set of tears. He wrapped his arms around her again and rubbed the top of her head, cooing sweet nothings in her hair.

"Ursa." He whispered. "You must leave. You cannot stay here."

She sniffled and pulled away from him. "My children," she choked out, "What will happen to my children?"

Iroh swallowed a dry lump in his throat and wiped away a few tears angrily. "You are dead, Ursa."

She cried loudly and clung to Iroh's shirt, snorting and sobbing. He bit the inside of his cheek and his heart hardened at the sound of her sadness. His brother _would_ pay.

* * *

"Iroh…you and my mother…" Zuko cringed and lifted his teacup to his lips. If ever there was a time for hard brewed tea, this was it. The newly added information in his head swam around angrily, putting the young man in a daze. His mother was alive. Mum was alive. His heart inflated and rose up to his throat, making him want to sing and dance all at the same time.

Iroh nodded solemnly and stood up slowly, either the floor or his back creaking. Zuko followed suit, more quickly, and rushed to his Uncle's side. "My boy," he whispered. "You must find her." Zuko shook his head, bewildered. "Why must I? Have you not searched for her?" he asked, while steadying Iroh. The old man smiled grimly.

"I never stopped."

They strolled over to the door, and upon opening it were surprised to see Sokka Kuruk snoozing in a wooden chair. Zuko gave a confused glance to Uncle, but Iroh just laughed, telling him to "let the sleeping one be."

* * *

A/N: Good Lord! The revision is over! Now I just have to whip up a new chapter...crap.  
That was a short lived celebration. Review please!


	6. Celestica

**She Walks in Beauty**

A novel of the nineteenth century

"_Multa fernut anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recendentes adimiunt."_

_

* * *

_Chapter Six:  
Celestica

* * *

After their long-winded discussion, Iroh had led Zuko back to his apartment for a good night's rest. The streets were empty and the sky was dark, the moon being hidden by the ominous clouds. Eventually, they came upon a small building, slightly shabby, but cozy all the same.

Zuko smiled to himself, secretly proud of his humble Uncle. Despite the dreariness of his visit, he was glad to have come. He couldn't fathom why he had been so lost in touch with the old man. Of course, if the whole family was covering up the affair, it made sense. But if they wanted things to seem normal, then, Zuko supposed, they should have let him contact his Uncle.

But, alas, the past was past and he felt no need to dwell on it. Disregarding the fact that the past was exactly what Zuko needed to concentrate on.

Iroh opened the door to his house, and Zuko trailed in behind him. "Nephew, forgive me for not owning a guest room, you will have to make do on the couch." Zuko nodded.

"Sleep well. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Zuko awoke with a jerk, his eyes snapping open to take in his surroundings. He was confused at first, but relaxed when he recalled that he was at his Uncle's house. Then he remembered their conversation and groaned softly.

He waited for Iroh to get up and answer the door.

BAM.

He groaned.

Figures that the old man would be a heavy sleeper.

He tossed the blankets off his form and sat up slowly, his vision adjusting to the dark. When he walked over to answer the door, he was supremely surprised to be engulfed in a heap of curls.

"W-what?" he stuttered out, lamely.

The curls drew back and suddenly zuko was looking into the eyes of Katara Kuruk. But her blue orbs were no longer bright and happy, they were wet and puffy and overall, she was a mess.

She sniffed. "I-I'm sorry. I shoul'n't have come. I's just that I knew you's was at Iroh's and Toph's with Aang an' I don't have anyone else to go to an'–"

She collapsed against him and sobbed. Awkwardly, zuko reached his arms around her and patted her slowly on the back. He led her over to his makeshift bed and she let go of him slowly. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. He didn't know if she was hurt, or sad, or what. Needless, to say, Zuko Sozin wasn't used to crying women.

"I's Sokka! We's got in a fight and he di'n't come home. That's not what 'm worried 'bout though. When I's got home, me mum was just lyin' in a heap on th' floor. I don't und'rstand why an' i's all my fault. Why coul'n't it have been me? I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

She continued crying. Zuko stared down at her figure sadly, he knew how she felt. She wailed and pulled him in for an embrace. He rubbed the back of her head, playing with her curls. "Shh, shh. It'll be okay. I know how you feel."

She pulled back and looked up at him through wet lashes. "Y-you do?" she hiccupped. Zuko nodded. "Yes, when I was young, my mother–well, she…it's a long story."

"P-please tell me," she whispered, grabbing his night shirt tightly.

He did. It all came tumbling out his lips. Never mind that he probably shouldn't have told her. He did anyway. She sobbed and held him closer. "Now it's up to me to find her," he whispered.

Katara sniffed and then gasped. "Oh no! I left her there! We's have to go back!" She jumped up and pulled on Zuko's arm. Together they ran out the door and into the dark night.

When they arrived at the house, Katara began to cry again. She buried her face in Zuko's shoulder as they walked inside.

Lying on the floor was her mother.

She looked exactly like Katara. Her brown hair was wavy and long, matted with blood. Her face was now peaceful. Her eyes were shut but Zuko was willing to bet they were the same bright blue. As Katara busied herself weeping, Zuko studied the body.

He looked for the main wound to try to determine the source of her death. _There_. The clothing atop of her ribcage was a dark maroon. Upon further inspection, he discovered the dress was ripped. In a circular notion. A bullet wound.

With a muffled grunt, he turned the woman slightly onto her side. There, in a pool of blood, was a bullet. It had gone through her body. He picked it up gingerly. "Katara," he called out.

She sobbed in response and he laid her mother down carefully before walking over to her. He fingered the bullet, rolling it around. Carved into it was a boar. "Do you recognize this?"

It wasn't uncommon for men these days to have inscription upon their bullets. He certainly remembered having an engraving done upon his when he was younger. He no longer carried a gun around.

She rubbed her eyes before peering down at it. She gasped in alarm. "Th-that…that's Jet's."

Jet. The man who tried to dishonor her earlier. Zuko growled.

"B-but…why? If he wanted me dead, why kill me mum?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"She was protecting you."

Katara started to cry all over again. She sniffed and stood up slowly. She made her way over to her mother and bent down.

"You's…died. For me." With that, she undid the necklace around her mother's neck and closed her fist around it tightly. She straightened up and turned to Zuko. "Would..you's mind?"

He shook his head and clasped it around her neck once she lifted up her hair. "There." He breathed out, dropping his hands to his sides. She turned around and embraced him tightly.

"Zuko," she began. "I wan' to help you's find your mum."

* * *

A/N: Goodness. Drama, drama, drama. I was unsure about the whole just now killing off Katara's mom, but she died protecting her so I guess it's alright. If you disagree, I'll probably change it. Sorry for the shortness, but then next chapter will be pretty long, so you'll have to suffer through it. By the way, does putting Jet in some sort of mobster gang sound alright? Or would it be too many unnecessary details? It felt good making Jet a villain though…no matter how much I adore his character :) Well, drop me a review!


End file.
